The Mess I Made
by onceinabluemoon0013
Summary: "As you turn, you take you heart and walk away." Sherlock learns that his actions can have severe consequences. An angsty drabble series.
1. Part I

"Get out."

"Molly, I…. Please…"

"Get. Out." Her voice was steady as she stared up at the consulting detective, but her doe eyes betrayed her pain. Sherlock gulped audibly as she closed them to stop the tears from spilling out.

When she finally looked at him again, her eyes were completely void of emotion. Gone was the love and admiration he had become so accustomed to seeing. Even disgust and doubt would be better than nothing at all.

"If you would just let me explain, Molly…."

She laughed at that, a bitter, harsh sound that caused his heart to constrict painfully. "What, exactly, is there to explain, Sherlock? Your dead ex-lover, who happens to not be dead after all, comes dashing back to London, and, just like that, you're rushing off to her side! Tell me, did you think of us at all before jumping into her bed?!" A tear escaped, and Molly turned away from him in an attempt to hide her heartbreak.

"It was a mistake! It only happened once, and I left as soon as I came to my senses. I swear, Molly, I never wanted to hurt you!"

"Well, maybe you should have considered that before you slept with her! How could I ever trust you again? What about the next time she strolls into town?" Her shoulders were hunched over as she sobbed, Sherlock's guilt eating away at him as he saw the true damage his actions had done. He was struck by the overwhelming need to fix this, whatever means necessary. He didn't know what he would do if he lost Molly. The idea was unimaginable.

"I promise you, Molly, it will never happen again! Please tell me what to do. What do I need to do to make you trust me again?!" He walked towards her, reaching out a hand to stroke her hair, but pulled back when she cringed at his proximity. Finally, she turned towards him. Gone was the impassive expression. Instead, she looked crushed.

"I don't think you can, Sherlock," she spoke quietly, walking over to retrieve her jumper from the sofa. "Since you won't leave, and this was originally your flat, anyway, I suppose I'll have to stay with John and Mary for a few days. At least until I can find my own flat. Please don't try to contact me."

He stared at the spot she had recently occupied, trying to convince himself that he had not shattered the only woman who had ever truly mattered to him. Maybe he would wake up from this nightmare to find Molly snuggled against his side, sleepily smiling up at him as he placed a gentle kiss to her temple. Maybe he would wake up to find he had not betrayed her with the Woman, and Molly still loved him.

He heard a faint clink from behind him, and pivoted in time to see her placing his grandmother's engagement ring on the table. Molly balled her fists, gathering the courage he knew she possessed in order to leave him. She slowly walked to the door, every step seeming to take more and more effort. She stopped as she reached the entryway, however, placing a hand on the doorknob.

Sensing his last chance to do something, _anything_, to make her stay, Sherlock threw caution to the wind. "Molly, I–"

"Goodbye, Sherlock," she interrupted sadly before pulling the door open and stepping out. As the door closed behind her, he felt an acute feeling of loss, knowing the door had shut on their relationship as well. He moved over the window and watched as his fiancé slipped into a taxi and out of his life. He noticed a wet sensation on his cheek, reaching a hand up, not really surprised to discover he was crying.

"I love you," he spoke into the empty flat, finally daring to say the words he had been unable to utter during the entirety of their relationship. "I'm sorry, Molly."

**The End?**

**I originally posted this little ficlet on Tumblr, and asked if anyone would be interested in me turning it into a series of drabbles. The response was overwhelmingly in favor of this, so I will be continuing this story.**

**That being said, I cannot promise a happy ending for our couple, which kills me a little. I haven't plotted that far ahead. **

**To be honest, I've been in a very melancholy mood lately, and this is how I coped. I'm also sick of the stories where Sherlock cheats on Molly with very few consequences. I don't believe Molly would just forgive him. It will take time for her to trust him again. **

**Please let me know what you think. You know I love reading your reviews!**


	2. Part II

**Well, here's part II ****finally****. This one is written from Molly's perspective, and Sherlock does not make an appearance, but I really thought we needed to know more of Molly's thoughts. I actually cried a little while writing this, but Molly is a strong woman and she is going to be okay. I really hope that came through in this drabble. For anyone reading All In, I hope to have the next chapter written soon!**

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Molly scurried out the door of their shared flat and onto the bustling street outside, her conversation with Sherlock replaying over and over in her mind. She lifted her arm to hail a cab, oblivious to the passers-by staring bewildered at the woman on the pavement with tears streaming down her cheeks.

After a few moments that felt like hours, a black cab pulled up in front of her. She climbed in, hesitating only a moment before slamming the car door behind her. The motion felt final, like her relationship was actually over, far more than when she had spoken the words upstairs. This set off a new wave of sobs, and the cabbie looked at her pityingly through the rearview mirror.

"Where to, Miss?" he asked quietly, sympathy lacing his voice.

She spluttered out the Watsons' address and sank back into the uncomfortable seat. She closed her eyes, images of happier times taunting her.

The day of Moriarty's supposed return, when Sherlock had shown up on her doorstep and passionately kissed her…. The morning after they had first been intimate, when she had confessed that she loved him (aloud) for the first time…. Their second anniversary as a couple, when the consulting detective had taken to one knee and asked her to be his forever….

The last memory had Molly crying out in anguish as she fiddled with her now bare ring finger. Another broken engagement. Her mum had cautioned her about Sherlock, but she had ignored the warnings, insisting this relationship would work. Sherlock had never spoken the words, of course, but she had always believed he cared for her deeply, loved her even. She just hadn't realized she had been a place holder for someone else, someone more worthy of his affections….

_No!_ she stopped herself. She was not going to allow Sherlock Holmes to destroy her self-confidence anymore. If he didn't love her, then she would find someone else who did. She deserved better than a man who only wanted her until a better offer came along.

The driver interrupted her inner monologue by calling to her. She blinked furiously for a moment, realizing that they had arrived at the Watsons' residence. She apologized to the cabbie, who brushed it off with a wave of his hand.

"I can see you have quite a lot on your mind, Miss. Between you and me, he's probably the stupidest human on earth. If I had a pretty girl like you, there's no way I'd let you go."

Molly gave him a small smile, although she imagined it came out more like a grimace. Saying a quick thank you, she paid him and stepped out.

Clouds covered the sky, tinting the city a dark grey that perfectly matched her mood. She laughed bitterly and walked up the steps to the Watsons' flat.

She knocked three times before Mary finally opened the door, her eyes widening as she took in Molly's appearance, the younger woman still crying silently. Mary gathered her in her arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace as she pulled the pathologist inside and whispered comforting words into her ear.

"Mary, who…?" John trailed off as he noticed his wife holding a trembling Molly. He rushed to the two women, draping an arm across Molly's waist as Mary released her. Together, the married couple escorted Molly into their kitchen, sitting her down at the kitchen table. John hurriedly set a glass of water in front of her. Molly gulped it down gratefully, even as she continued to weep.

"Molly, what happened?" Mary asked, brushing a strand of hair behind Molly's ear. "What's wrong?"

"Sherlock…. Broken engagement…. The Woman…," Molly muttered between her sobs. She covered her face in her hands, trying to stem the flow of tears. "So stupid…."

Mary and John locked eyes, coming to identical conclusions at the same time. Neither missed the empty space on Molly's finger where she had so proudly displayed Sherlock's grandmother's ring.

The couple looked at each other, silently debating the best course of action. Finally, with a small nod, John grabbed his coat and stormed to the front door. "I'm going to kill him."

Molly's head shot up. "N-no! H-he's your b-best fr-friend! I don't want to r-ruin your friendship! You mean more to him than I ever did." Molly's voice quieted as she spoke, the last sentence barely more than a whisper. The sorrowful resignation in her tone broke both John's and Mary's hearts.

John's glare darkened. "Yep. I'm going to kill him." He raged out of the flat, leaving his wife to comfort the devastated Molly.

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**What did you think? Did you like how I portrayed Molly? Please let me know! I love to hear your thoughts! And thank you to everyone who has followed this story and/or added it to your favorites, as well as to all of you reading it!**


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